Chasing the Horizon
by lydia the eleventh
Summary: OneShot. AU CotBP. Norrington and Elizabeth have a rather metaphorical conversation about their engagement.


"There's nothing like it, is there?"

Elizabeth Swann, so recently lost in the red sunset, spun around to see her fiancé step out of the slanting shadows, dying light tinting his shirt orange and peach.

"Some days, I almost see why Captain Sparrow chases it so ardently, that horizon," he continued, nodding to the helmsman and the officer of the watch.

"It certainly is beautiful."

"And elusive," James bristled, "Some men chase after it all their lives, and they never find it."

"Can you catch the horizon?"

"Can you stop the tide? Can you bottle the winds? No. Nor can you catch the horizon. It is impossible – the horizon is a force unto itself, irresistible, irrefutable, and unobtainable. The man who chases it condemns himself to a lifetime of sorrow and folly."

"But they still try," she smiled hopefully, leaning on a backstay.

"And fail."

Elizabeth glanced at him, but his gaze had turned – he was regarding the setting sun with a hopeless frown.

"Look! That island is the horizon! We'll overtake it in less than two hours with this wind, and then you'll have caught it!"

"You cannot mark her to one spot, the horizon. She changes and shifts, and recedes as soon as you come near Perhaps – no – I would not have her if she was one moment, because that is not her."

"But you would still follow her?"

"To the ends of the earth," he nodded earnestly, green eyes flashing her way, and Elizabeth realized it wasn't just the horizon they were discussing.

"Tonight might be your night. Why not steer for the sunset?"

"I've had my fill of chases, Miss Swann. I came up to see that all was well. I am satisfied that all is so, and I believe I shall retire for the night."

A lightening movement, and she caught James's wrist.

"Please? If you won't steer for the sunset, I will."

He was incredulous, but could never deny Elizabeth anything.

"You've never handled the helm of a rowboat, much less the wheel of a first-rate ship of the line!"

"I am determined, James."

She flashed a winning smile, seeing his objection was more perfunctory that anything.

"I won't let you jeopardize the lives of every man aboard this ship!"

"Then you'll just have to teach me, I suppose."

That was it. She had won. Elizabeth, in her crude dress, spun on her heel and left the poop for the quarterdeck, James in her wake.

"Leave us," he growled to the helmsmen and officer, taking the oaken spokes in his weathered palms, "Come here, Elizabeth. Take the helm."

Steady but nervous, she gripped the wheel, utterly dwarfed by its size. Almost immediately, she felt the will of the rudder, and struggled to stay upright.

"Not so easy, is it?"

"I'll manage."

James stepped closer, and took a spoke from her.

"When you steer, you need endurance. You can't let the sea sway you, or you'll be lost among the shoals. Are you ready?"

Was that a challenge in his eyes, or trust?

"Yes."

"Good."

She felt her arms tense, but she held true, piloting the _Dauntless_ onward.

Around the Commodore and his fiancé, the crew slowly, surreptitiously cleared away, attending to their duties at a respectful distance. The officer of the watch approached once, only to ring two bells.

"I want to head for the sunset," she whispered after what seemed like an eternity of holding steady.

"A few points to starboard should do it; the wind's not adverse."

Feeling his presence close behind her, she complied, forcing the wheel to follow her will.

"Good. Hold steady, and we'll see about the horizon."

How long they stood like that, Elizabeth didn't know. The sun slipped further and further; crewmen lit the lantern in the binnacle and the stern lamps; the moon could be seen, ever so slightly. Perhaps an hour? Her arms tired, and she found herself trembling, ever so slightly from the effort.

Hesitantly, he stepped closer and grasped the wheel, relieving her burden. She was sure he was nearer than propriety allowed, and that he didn't have to hold the same spokes as she did, but it didn't matter.

"James?"

Was that his heart she heard, or her own?

"Yes?"

His breath was warm on her neck. She shivered ever so slightly, and not because of the cold.

"Do you think we'll catch it?"

He didn't answer at first, but curled his hands around her own.

"Maybe."

She turned to regard him, so close she could see herself in those green eyes. He smiled, a rare boyish grin that could not but endear.

"But perhaps," he whispered, barely audible, "I've caught her already."


End file.
